All Of Our Pride
by Raggazzed12
Summary: A collection of one-shots for the Pride Month Event at Hogwarts. A rainbow of representation!
1. It's A Promise

**A/N: To clarify, they've been together since the beginning of that 7th year, and it's about three years after the Battle of Hogwarts. (This is also my first fic about this ship, and I certainly like it more now that I've gotten to writing them.**

 **This was written for the Pride Month Event at Hogwarts (Lesbian).  
**

 **Ship: Lavender/Parvati**

In one large, deep, breath, she pushed her legs forward just the tiniest bit more. They were almost done with this session - surely that meant she could go just a little further. The Healer was watching carefully, as if spells could not have simply solved all of the problems she was having. Even if she knew that was literally impossible - no healing for significantly damaged nerves and lungs had been figured out yet - there was always a hope.

"I'm done," she stumbled into the chair with more than a few curses echoing around her skull. There had to be a better way to do this. "I'm done."

"Good job, you kept up for longer than last time! Evidently, you are increasing in strength of the heart and lungs, Ms. Brown." Healer Cathy smiled, opening the door. "I'll be going to fix up some of your records and I'll be right back."

Leaning her head into her hands, she moaned slightly. If she had known that getting her chest basically torn apart and destroyed was going to have such backlashes, maybe she would have hesitated in trying to ever fight in that battle. The whiteness of the room was also starting to irritate her, the clean state of the exercise equipment was a little annoying: it practically sparkled. How much time did they spend on cleaning spells a week in here?  
A soft presence by her head caused her to lift it a little. "Lav, honey?"

"Hey." She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips as she let her hand slip into Parvati's much warmer, smoother fingers. "I'll be ready to move in a moment or two."

"I understand if you want to stay around here for a little longer…just to collect yourself."

She only nodded in a soft response, not sure how much more overstimulation she could take. Overstimulation in the form of being forced to work out, of course. The same questions repeated in her head as she thought about how she had never predicted the force it would take to _run_ again. Damn it all if this meant she would never run normally again. _Damn it all._

Cathy returned with the usual amounts of paperwork, waiting patiently for them to sign the two places on the thirty sheets of paper before nodding swiftly and leaving the room, off to do something else with some other patient no doubt. It was all becoming a routine of the mind, really.

"I'm...let's get going." She brushed a piece of hair out of her face and stood up with determination. Parvati was smiling at her in that cute way she did every time she felt flustered by actions Lavender made. Lavender loved those smiles.

"Alright, Lav. I was thinking we could go out to eat for dinner tonight, so I booked a reservation at The Moon Cafe," hand in hand, they exited the small room and nodded to those they passed on the way out as Parvati spoke, "So I hope you're okay with that."

She could not help the smile that crossed her face as she nodded ecstatically. No matter how tired she might've been from the work today, she was always ready to go out to eat.

"That would be great." Parvati squeezed her hand gently before they were forced to part by the sign out sheet being handed to them.

%

The diner seats were soft, the tables cool to the touch, the silverware warmed from being freshly washed. Waiters and waitresses moved around the room with care. Lavender could never get tired of the way the whole place worked smoothly. It was probably her favorite wizard restaurant in the entirety of London.

They were sitting at a table that was certainly too large for the both of them to be the only ones having dinner, but she didn't comment. She didn't comment because Parvati was watching her with careful interest and intensity, a look that had been there throughout their entire relationship. A look that she still saw and it still made her satisfied.

"I hope your work went well today." The look disappeared while Parvati stated her thoughts.

"Yes, it was normal I guess. Nothing exciting happened at all. No brilliant prophecies were told today, my dear." Lavender sighed into the glass of water in front of her. "People simply expect me to have all of the answers these days."

"Well, for someone who was told she had the gift of Seer right after she survived the Battle of Hogwarts, you've been doing really well with the pressure. I'm not sure what they honestly expect from you these days. It's like everyone's watching and waiting for you to simply bust out into a prophecy, but is anything ever going to happen again after that …all of that mess? I doubt it."

"You're right." She looked around, but there were still no waiters or waitresses coming in their direction. Why were they waiting so long? Who were they waiting for?

Parvati reached across the table to take her hand, "Can I come sit down next to you?"

"Why? Parvati, hon, why are we sitting down at this really big table? Is something going on?" She let her girlfriend sit down next to her. She didn't want to sound worried, but she couldn't help nerves from entering her voice.

"I decided we'd have a night out with some other people for once. I understand we don't get out much...so I invited a few people out here tonight. They should be here soon. It was a random outing, really." Parvati made a direct glance at the clock that Lavender did not miss.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, mostly because Lavender was processing exactly what she had just heard. Parvati had gone out of her way to invite friends to see Lavender who she hadn't seen any of them in a really long time.

"Hello, hope we aren't too late?" Hannah Abbott of all people sat down, coming into view as if she had Apparated right to the spot. (Lavender wouldn't have been surprised if this was indeed the case.)

"Would be a shame if that were true," Padma too suddenly seemed to appear as if from nowhere, "I wanted to be on time for this."

"For...what?" Lavender looked at them, not able to help the smile that crossed her lips as they sat down. "Oh, I've missed you guys!"

"I've missed you too!" They each said, taking turns to shake hands and smile.

Once they were all settled down and comfortable, Lavender fluffed her hair and crossed her hands on the table.

"So, how's everything going with you two? Hannah first," she added hastily to make sure they didn't try to all talk at once.

"It's been fine. The job's not doing too badly. I've gotten promoted to assistant manager." Hannah said, in reference to her job at the Leaky Cauldron.

"That's great! And the love life, of course?" Parvati eagerly asked.

She softened her smile, "Great. It's nice. He's so different when it comes to romance; much less awkward. I mean, he's less awkward now that he's got that job, and he's doing well when it comes to understanding emotions."

"And Padma?"

"Well, I've been up and down, here and there. Everything's going normal, I guess, is really what I should say." The other gave a nod. "Still hanging around bars and clubs to find a man, but they'll all come soon. How about you two?"

Parvati took hold of the explanation of everything they had been doing, from their meager jobs to the work Lavender had been doing to get back in shape. Lavender couldn't break her eyes from her girlfriend as they sat there, watching the emotions pass over her face was adorable. Sometimes it was nice to sit in silence as the one you loved most spoke about everything she was passionate about. Sometimes passion was the best to listen to; it's pure quality was nothing alike any of the four of them seated at that table.

At some point Parvati was speaking about her: grabbing her hand, watching her, smiling at her. But Lavender couldn't have really been drawn in any further by the beautiful woman beside her. There was no breaking the zoned-out way she nodded and chuckled and giggled.

"...which is why I thought, yeah, this is a good idea." Parvati was suddenly moving, why was she moving? Lavender broke out of her trance.

"What are you doing? Par?"

"She has no clue what is going on, does she?" Padma laughed, and all Lavender could do was smile at her weakly before looking back at Parvati, who was standing now.

"Lav…" Parvati was getting more crouched, "I know this might seem a little instant. It's a little fast. I mean, not that fast, we've been together for 4 years. So… I thought, maybe we should...take another step. I mean, why wouldn't we? You know where your heart lies as much as I do."

She let out a little squeal of surprise and excitement as Parvati knelt down fully, still gripping her hand.

"So...Lavender Lorie Brown, will you marry me?" Parvati was smiling that beautiful smile -

"Yes!" She might've said it a little louder than intended, but that didn't matter.

The ring - oh, she hadn't seen it before because she'd been looking at that face - was beautiful. Golden, with a sapphire stone set in. There was a new glimmer to the deep brown eyes of her lover, and she couldn't help but be completely silent as the ring was set onto her fingers, and as Parvati rose to kiss her gently.

It wasn't until she was called back into the world by the sounds of clapping from the two others at the table, and some people from other neighboring tables, that Lavender found she could breath again.

"I don't - Parvati, I don't have a ring to match, what do I do?" She giggled, still holding the other girl in her arms.

"You can get one later." Parvati whispered into her ear as they stood there for a little longer, neither wanting to let the other go.

%

"How does it feel to be sleeping next to your fiance?" Parvati whispered over her shoulder as they lay in bed that very same night. Lavender was still slightly shocked, still trying to wipe tears out of her eyes occasionally.

Overall, she was shocked. This was the greatest thing to have happened to her in a long, long time, maybe even only beating the day she'd started dating Parvati.

"Amazing. I love you…" she turned around in bed to face Parvati, smiling and wrapping her arms around the other's body.

"Love you too...can we spend the day like this tomorrow?"

"What, in bed? Yeah, sure, love. We don't need to do anything. It's Saturday, after all...will we be announcing this to anyone else?"

"Sure...love...we can do that sometime." Parvati smiled.

Lavender snuggled further into the other's arms, and settled in for the evening.


	2. Maybe

**A/N: This is slightly based off of my own coming out experience, or rather, questioning experience - when I first realized it, and how I dealt with it. It helps to have had that experience, and I decided to use some of it here, because why not pull from one's own trials in life? The questioning part of one's sexuality is so extremely hard, which is why this is only the start of it in this brief story, because I don't think I could handle the task of describing that part of coming out in written word with a character for a one-shot like this.**

 **(Word Count: 835)**

 **(As is going to be usual)Written for the Pride Month Event (Queer/Questioning).**

It had all started with simply looking at the one person he had never thought he could be attracted to.

So simple, yet so - stupid? He'd never thought he was anything but… well, _straight_ , he supposed. Yet one could change, he was aware of that. Dean wasn't sure how he felt about it, though.

Clearly, Ginny didn't know how to feel about anything else but him, as she stole his gaze away with a kiss on the cheek. That fluttering feeling in his stomach as he had looked at the smaller Irishman perhaps had been nothing. It hadn't been anything the last few times it had happened, right? It wasn't anything now, obviously.

Ginny was watching him with cautious eyes now. Dean would have to watch himself, or he'd be in loads of trouble with her - as if he hadn't been already. This relationship was costing him a fortune when it came to emotions.

"Do we need to go back to Hogwarts? I understand if you want to cut this date short, Dean, you look a little … sick." She asked him with that voice of hers that mostly spoke of suspicion and guilt. As if _she_ were the one who had created the rift between them.

That same, singular look, weeks ago, was changing everything for him, including his perspective on life. And now that he had made the mistake of looking again…

"We can leave, Dean."

"No, I'm sorry, I sort of panicked for a moment. I don't know why, it won't happen again." He tried to save the whole situation. It probably only made things worse, as usual.

"I don't believe it, Dean," Ginny stirred her drink, "You don't act like this. You never have before. This is new."

Biting back the remark of "not that new", Dean gave a soft nod and sighed. She had won this round of "who will wimp out first?". For having had such a strong relationship for months, maybe it was worth letting it run down a little. Maybe that was normal with relationships. Dean had never had one before this, so he saw himself as unqualified to know.

They exited the building, but not before Dean took another look at Seamus in the corner, wondering exactly what it was that he had begun to feel.

%

Another stranger had passed by him in Hogsmeade as they'd left that day, and Dean had taken a good look at the man - and been struck out of his "trance" when he realized he was totally checking the dude out.

Now he was beginning to suspect something his subconscious may have known forever. As he crafted a picture in the setting sun - gentle strokes with the pencils on the paper always made him feel better and more stable - he thought about what he was actually considering. That he, Dean, was not straight. That he, Dean, was only now realizing it even though it was usually said one knew earlier. But other people only realized it later in life, he knew that too.

Why he had to be discovering it _now_ was both unsettling and not surprising. The mere minute in which he finally seemed to have a relationship for the first time was being destroyed by the fact that he was denying his apparent different sexuality.

It only suited Dean.

And then there was the idea that _Seamus_ was the reason he was thinking about all of this in the first place.

Seamus had been out for a while to the whole of Hogwarts as gay, so it was well-known that he was not a threat to the other boys' chances with the birds. It was also well known that he was not just an open book to anyone. Anyone who wanted a piece of him wasn't going to get it; and Dean had always been surprised by how clean the guy was. Really, he would have thought Seamus to have gone out with every boy who had come out as anything but straight in their grade by now.

But Dean had not only realized that he wasn't straight, he had realized Seamus was the reason. He was harboring somewhat of an actual crush on the boy he'd called his best friend for years.

How could Dean ever do that to him? Tell Seamus he liked him, but that he had no idea what his proper "label" or whatever was, so maybe it was best they didn't pursue anything for a little longer? That would be, quite frankly, extremely messed up.

And cruel, to say the least. It wouldn't be right to leave anyone hanging like that.

So he might have to wait it out. He wasn't sure how to handle all this information at once, he wasn't even sure what he wanted out of it; but he would try his best to deal with it.

Dean was good at a few things in his life. One of those was art. The other - well, the other was thinking situations through.


	3. Worth It All

**A/N: This one is also heavily based on my experience of realizing I was also asexual, the realization not the reality of it. So far, I've been single all my little life.**

 **(As is usual) written for the Pride Month Event (Asexual).**

 **(Word Count: 1,286)**

 **Ship: Luna/Neville**

She had refused the first few times anyone she was in a relationship had asked her when it came to being intimate. The stubborn response they received had put them off - and yet, she could do nothing but shrug. It was how Luna worked, she did not get intimate with those she loved, she merely smiled and shook her head and suggested something different if they continued to ask her.

"Lack of a sexual drive" was now how she introduced herself when the question about whether or not she enjoyed intimacy came up with the person she was on a date with. Luna liked the looks she got for it, because it was as if the person had never heard of it. Girl or boy, either was likely to try and convince her that it was certainly otherwise. There was no way someone went through life like that.

And in the past few years of her life, Luna had experimented with both once or twice. She had enjoyed it both times, boy and girl, and then had refused to do anything else with the same person.

So maybe - maybe this could be different. This was a person who had known her for a long time. They had been close friends for years, surely _he_ would understand.

It was a beautiful dinner set up, a nice Muggle restaurant in the corner of London that she often frequented. Other friends liked it just as much, suggesting it when someone had a date they were planning on and had nowhere to go in mind.

Silverware clinked against the tables, and all around them were the muttered conversations of Muggle couples, the louder ones of the Muggle families, the silence of the Muggles who were alone. It was nice to be surrounded by people who were not wizards, who did not have magic in their lives.

And Luna could not supress her smile at the familiar face seated across from her. Neville only managed a small smile back, as he was always the one to be shy on dates.

"Well, this is quite nice." She made the comment only to break the ice.

"Yeah, yeah it is." He was urgent to get onto a topic and stick with it. "Say, do you think anyone else thought it was weird that _we_ were going on a date?"

"If they did they certainly did not express their opinion," humming, Luna continued to play with her fork absentmindedly, "I wouldn't care if they had one."

With a shake of the head, he said, "Me neither, I just was wondering."

"That's good to know."

They had to order their food from a smiling waitress before they could continue talking. Luna was so pleased with how this was going, as she'd waited for the right time to express her feelings towards Neville for a while now. His next sentence informed her that he felt the same way.

"I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you wanted to actually go on a date with me," Neville was laughing: she laughed right along with him, "I've waited on this, for like, ever, now. I'm sorry I didn't know you shared the feelings, I would have pursued this sooner."

"I would have as well." She gazed at him with wide-eyes. "I have the feeling some people thought we'd end up here sooner than we did."

"Yeah?" He grinned.  
"Yeah."

%

"Mmm...watch the door…" Luna mumbled as she tried to kiss harder than she probably could in the standing position they were in. They managed to make it to the bed, which was good.

For a few minutes, all either of them could hear was the heavy breathing of one another as they made out with rough lips and roving hands. This was most certainly a different way to end a first date, and while Luna was being careful and trying to prevent anything from going too far, she could not help the way she clung desperately to Neville.

And for a little while, this was substantial for the both of them: making out like messy teenagers on the bed, without a thought about what may happen next. Or in the next few minutes. Or hours, or days, or months, or years.

It wasn't until Neville began to show signs of a deeper aggression - one she was familiar with when it came to dating anyone - that Luna had to stop him there. Kissing on the lips was fine. Anything past that would make her highly uncomfortable, and not only that, she didn't want to go any farther.

"Luna? Are you okay?" He sat up, still holding the back of her head. She giggled, nodding.

"You remember what I told you guys a long time ago? When I first admitted to being bisexual? I told you that I also don't feel anything...sexual. I don't have a natural sex drive, Nev. I don't want to go any farther...ever...but I know, I know that can hurt to hear," She faltered a little, worried she was losing him already.

Instead, he was looking at her with a more determined look crossing his face than ever.

"Don't worry, I won't push you any farther than where you want to go," He was gentle and soft in her ear with his whisper, "If you don't want to ever have sex with me, I completely understand."

"Thank you." She couldn't help the tears that seemed to clog her throat as she said this, it was the first time in a long while that a partner had been okay with that statement. That had been okay with who she was as a person.

Without getting rougher or more intimate, Neville lay beside her on that bed, and they fell asleep curled up together.

%

Luna remembered how she had figured out she was asexual. How complicated it had seemed at first, before she realized it was actually quite simple. She simply didn't have room for intimacy.

She had always stated that she hadn't wanted kids to her father - for years, actually - without knowing as to why so much as they would take up her life entirely. When she had figured out that it was simply because she didn't have any desire to do what it took to have a kid, well, that relief had been immense.

For the first time in her history of having a relationship with anyone, she had never been so relieved as she was when she woke up in the morning to see Neville sitting at the table drinking morning tea and smiling at her. He hadn't left her like many did after they found out what she was like. No, Neville had stayed behind. Neville had even spent the night.

"Morning," he smiled at her. Luna could only smile back with the little, corner lifting smile she was known for.

"Good morning."

After setting up her own morning routine, Luna sat beside Neville at the table, still unable to hold back her smile. It was so different having someone be okay with everything she said, or did, or refused. It was beautiful.

Leaning closer to him, she nudged him, "I'm so glad you stayed...most people often leave when they find out they aren't getting a piece of me."

"I couldn't do that to you." He replied.

They both instinctively leaned in for a small kiss. It was the easiest date she had ever experienced. It was the best date she had ever experienced. Certainly, for years after, Luna would always reference that first date to her husband: who would simply laugh, smile, and tell her that it was worth it. It was _all_ worth it.


	4. Superhero

**A/N: I had to do some research for this one, as I have never actually interacted with someone who is intersex - well, maybe I have and I haven't known it - so I tried to make it as comfortable and accurate as possible. I've also never been to a Pride Parade, or Pride in general (when one comes out to their parents and it doesn't really work, one has to wait a while before the topic is touchable again, and even a year later it's not really applicable) so I just sort of get to guess at how it is. Sigh...I need to go to my first Pride sometime soon…**

 **Written for the Pride Month Event at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Intersex)**

 **Word Count: 602**

 **Ship: Hermione/Ginny**

The brightly colored streamers adorned the lampposts with their familiar rainbow pattern. People laughed and shouted and called out to each other all over the place, many with their faces painted or colorful clothing adorning their bodies. Ginny had never felt more comfortable with her surroundings as she watched the masses of fellow celebrating people gather about in clumps. She could see from her girlfriend's face that she was thinking much the same thing. There was something beautiful in the way Hermione was looking at these people that were like them that she wanted to capture it on camera.

Ginny broke her gaze from the other girl's face to look around at the booths that sat around the street. They consisted of many things, from food vendors to stores selling immense amounts of Pride-related materials. It was a shock to her system to be able to see all of the dedication some people put into the things they made to sell for the community that was in the streets today.

"Let's buy ourselves our own Pride flags!" Hermione let out an uncharacteristic giggle.

"Alright." She smiled at the other.

It didn't take long for Hermione to find her flag, even if it was sometimes a tad tricky to find the Lesbian Pride flag anywhere. They then had to set off to find Ginny's.

She was a little nervous about having her own pride flag - she shared Hermione's when it came to sexuality - as she wasn't sure what people would think. Did people think anything when they saw it? These people were fine with people like her, right?

"Over there!" A pointed finger from the other told Ginny that the Intersex Pride Flags were indeed found.

Approaching the booth slowly, Ginny had to steady herself before she could flash a smile at the man sitting behind the table. Hermione had floated off to some other booth for a moment, so she was completely alone.

"First time at Pride?" The man smiled.

"Yes." She nodded slowly, still staring at the various flag sizes around her.

"It's not unusual that we get nervous customers, but I promise you there's no reason to be scared. We wouldn't have the flags out if we didn't think the world could handle it," he was obviously trying to be nice, and she appreciated that, "'Sides, it looks like you're pretty settled in already."

"This is all certainly very welcoming." Ginny nodded, and settled on an appropriately sized flag. "I'm not used to having people suddenly know me and be completely alright with who I am - that one, please."

"Most people aren't used to it." He pulled down the bright yellow flag and handed it to her. "10 dollars."

After pulling out the money, and handing it to him, she nodded to him again, wrapping the flag around her like a cape.

"I'll just have to be our superhero." With a smile, she walked away, hearing the man laugh from behind her.

For the first time in her life, Ginny was perfectly and completely fine with the label of intersex.

She met up with Hermione again, the girl had found herself a group of people to talk to. Ginny was welcomed in like she had been friends with all of them for ages.

"That looks really cute around your shoulders," Hermione whispered in her ear at some point, "I think we should use them as blankets."

"They're such thin material…" She muttered back, and giggled as Hermione gave her a look. "Maybe for tonight we should just fall asleep in them, if that's what you want."

"That's more like it."


	5. Change

**A/N: Third year, Hermione-centric. I'd like to say that I was as careful as could be when writing this story, as I'm not any type of trans myself, so I had to write this with care. I hope it's not too bad, or inconsiderate to the transgender people out there. If you do have a problem with it, and it's one I can fix, please, tell me! I'd like to be as correct on this as I possibly can, and that's quite hard when I don't have much experience with that side of the LGBT+ community (I live in a slightly more conservative area of the country, so I don't see many others at all, actually).**

 **Written for Pride Month Event at Hogwarts (Transgender).**

 **Word Count: 1,011**

The worried looks in their eyes told her all she needed to know: Ron and Harry were suspicious of her for _something,_ and they weren't going to be getting off her case anytime soon. Hermione had seen them looking at her like that for weeks now. This wasn't some new version of a staring contest, for as far as she knew, no such challenges were currently trending with the students of the castle.

So what could they possibly be looking for? A tail? A sign of some indecent form of magic? If Hermione hadn't known better, she would have assumed they thought she was a part of this whole Sirius Black thing that was running rampant throughout wizarding society at the moment.

It wasn't until one evening, while she was preparing for bed, that she had a startling -but not awful - thought. Perhaps...perhaps they had figured it out. Or _were_ figuring it out? Suspecting _something_ , that was it. They were suspecting her as a person.

Hermione had come out to very few students, and aside from her parents and the administration of Hogwarts, few others knew she was a transgender woman. It had been a smooth enough transition in the beginning; but it had all happened before she came to Hogwarts. There was never any real need to come out to the people here - or so she thought.

After considering this idea for a few more days, Hermione took it upon herself to address it with both Harry and Ron at once.

They were seated on the couch in the common room, taking in the last remaining embers of the fire and not talking much at all. She only felt slightly worried about this, since she was certain they would be perfectly fine with it. She simply did not want to deal with the stupid questions that were sure to come out of it.

"Can I talk to you two for a moment?" Sitting upright, she looked at them carefully. Ron nodded, Harry replied with a "yeah". "Now, I know you two have been watching me recently, and I think I should simply come clean with the both of you."

"We didn't mean to make you worried!" Ron sat up a little straighter, sounding completely alarmed. "It was just…" He looked to Harry for help.

"We were noticing things, Hermione. It was making us worried."

"I guess you have a right to be." She smiled at them both.

"Well, why?" The red-head sounded completely exasperated with worry tinging his every word.

"Because...well, I haven't actually told many people about this. I believe the other girls who sleep with me know only because I had to confide in them first thing, but they don't mind." Hermione did not stop the eyeroll that hit her when she spoke of people such as Parvati or Lavender, who were too talkative and incessantly annoying to really care. "So this is a first time thing for all of us, I guess. What I'm trying to say is - Ron, don't look at me like that - is that I'm actually… a transgender woman. I transitioned a year before I came here, and it's made life easier as I don't have to tell many people. But I suppose both of you need to know, seeing as how you're some of the few friends and people I can actually stand around here."

They were silent for a moment, neither of them looked particularly shocked, though. She was a little more than just simply relieved at that, it had seemed so much harder until it wasn't.

"That's all? Gods, Hermione, we thought you had gone ballistic or something the past few weeks because you were about to murder someone or something. You were acting a little strange." Ron laughed.

"I've been sending in paperwork for a new round of hormones to be sent in and the possibility of my SRS sometime soon and so... things have been a little crazy," she chuckled, "But I'm glad you are okay with it."

"So you've been transitioning totally Muggle-style? I'm sure magic could make it easier." Harry was simply trying to be helpful, she knew it, but she couldn't help her smile at his lost face.

"My parents don't want to try magic. They're a little scared of it going horribly wrong with magic, and since I started before I knew I even had magical abilities, I guess it's just safer to continue going through with the Muggle version of everything in their eyes; and in mine."

They both looked extremely relieved, like they had suspected her of something more awful. Hermione had to admit that it felt good to let that out to them. She wasn't sure it would have been a smart idea to leave coming out to them until the very last minute when something horribly dangerous was about to happen. And they were just sitting there, no stupid questions asked.

"Well, if that's all, I feel much better knowing that's it." Ron grinned, and they all settled much more comfortably down in the couch for the remainder of the evening with only small topics of conversation needed to satisfy each other.

%

Summer came quickly, which was when she was going to go through with the remainder of her transitioning. Ron and Harry wished her luck as they got off the train. Hermione had only smiled and nodded, but she was as hopeful as they were.

It was nice to have friends who understood, she explained to her parents, and who didn't actually care. Her parents were soon in complete agreement.

For the first time, Hermione felt completely comfortable in her situation in life. Things _were_ getting better. She had the most supportive friends anyone could ask for, and the rest of the world probably could not have cared any less than it already did as to who she was once versus now. Change was good, change was helpful; change was finally being given to her and Hermione was taking the reins and riding it all the way out.


	6. No Matter What

**A/N: Finally, I'm doing one of my favorite gay ships (although it isn't really them, as they aren't really together here) but they're still one of my favorites.**

 **Written for Pride Month Event at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Bisexual).**

 **Ships: Wolfstar**

 **Ronks**

 **Words: 1,262**

The season of winter had only just set in, bringing to most a sense of cleanliness. All except Remus Lupin.

He had found this winter to be harder than ever before. Winters were rough on a werewolf regardless, as the form known as Moony by old, long-lost acquaintances often rebelled when it began to grow cold. Waking up shivering in the basement of whatever home he may have found shelter in was rough on one's body.

There was another far greater reason for his distress that certainly did not help transformations. Remus Lupin was struggling with the very idea of love.

Love was not unknown to the spindly man with the rough - but kind - face. Such an emotion had been felt before for other people; one face in particular came to mind when he thought about the concept of his past lovelife. For such an outcast, it had been hard to even consider dating anyone, let alone to marry. In fact, marriage was now such a foreign concept to him that Remus would have almost despised the very idea if he did not know that it had good parts as well.

That one face was lingering heavily - had been - for days on end now. Every time he glanced at Tonks he was greeted by that face in the corner of his eye. It had been rough enough to lose the very person that face belonged to, and now Remus had to deal with the idea of letting that person down in death even farther than he probably had already.

With a heavy heart, he now stood at the entrance to a familiar graveyard as snow flurried around him.

Remus was not one to back down from a problem so he had taken it upon himself - at the mercy of having to refuse the Weasleys' earnest pleas for him to stay at their house a little longer - to sort out what he could. The body of the man he was looking for wasn't even in this graveyard, but there were two others that were. And Remus had for months now pretended that the person's body was in fact in there.

It was a little better to remember someone as having been put to rest properly than to have been thrown into a mysterious curtain.

"Can't believe I've ended up back here…" He muttered to himself, entering the graveyard at Godric's Hollow slowly; but surely, very, very surely.

He turned to the grave with the statue slowly, watching it morph into the Potter statue he was very well acquainted with. Remus also believed in this place as being reliable, for he imagined they were all grouped together in the same place in death as it was in life, and so was certain he would get the audience he desired.

"I've returned," Lupin could not hold back the weak chuckle he gave at that, "Probably too soon, you will all surely agree. I'd like to talk to Pads, if that's alright with the others. There's a matter I'm sure is fully present and you can all access and know of, but I...there's too much to say."

While he could see no evident change in the statue or the surrounding area, he felt like the gentle eyes of the man he sought audience with were now the only ones on him. Upon entering, he had felt there were more than just one pair of eyes, though he was certain he was imagining it. The mind was a tricky thing.

"Hello, old friend." The familiar greeting almost got caught in his throat as he sat down, pushing aside some of the snow with his wand, and settling on the ground. "I simply have some requests and some things to set straight with you. I do not wish to come between us in the slightest. You, of all people, would know very well that my ability to set things straight is not one of my strongest attributes." Oh, the joke was lame, but it was really the only way to start.

"Sirius, you are very well aware that I have always been attracted to either gender. While I cannot say it was the same for you," he rolled his eyes in a caring manner, chuckling yet again, "I wish to tell you that I have found someone. Maybe you were right when you told me we should move on if anything were to happen to us nearly a year ago now, but I can't do so without telling you of this person.

'She's wonderful, mate. She's got this mind that I can't even begin to fathom, much less explain. She's different, and she's fine with who I am, and she is as destroyed as I feel somedays. We share a pain that I would blame on you - but I haven't the heart." In truth, he completely did, but he wasn't going to waste his time on explaining himself.

"All those years of waiting _were_ rewarding. But … I suppose we all must move on. I'm not one for sappiness, if anything, you were always the sappiest of us all, so I apologize if this gets slightly affectionate. It must, in order for this to work. You always told me to believe in myself if no one else did anyways, so this is my way of showing you that.

'I'm really here to thank you, Pads. You showed me the way for years. Without that, I would be unable to return the love that she's been showing me. If I didn't believe in my capability to love anyone, not simply woman or not simply man, I don't think I could have done any of this. I owe it to you, specifically. You knew how to help a mate out when they needed it. I'm thinking...I'm thinking of marriage, Pads. It's a huge step, but we never took it - and truthfully, I wish that we had. This may seem like I'm trying to make up for lost time...but I'd rather do that than never experience it at all." The snow was falling faster all around, distracting him from what he meant to say. Remus had been going over much of this in his head all day, and despite it seeming ridiculous that something being told to someone who probably wasn't even listening was so planned out, it was logical in his mind.

"I really am thanking you. For making everything more comfortable than it probably could have ever been otherwise...for making life possible. I'm going to marry Tonks in many ways because of you. I won't forget our time, yet as I've said, you would agree. Moving on is probably needed," he nodded, beginning to shift, "So I'm going to do it. That's all I had for today. Maybe I'll be back some other time to request of your permission, eh?"

He smiled a little. There was so much he might've said otherwise if there was more time. There wasn't, so he started to stand up and dust himself off.

"Thank you for showing me my true self. Thank you, Sirius." Remus began moving out of the graveyard, watching the statue as he backed away. "I will always love you, no matter what."

The sky was darker than before as the skinny man left the graveyard, leaving a small flower behind, and taking a new appreciation for some small part of the world with him. Remus would have been lying if he said that no tears fell as he slowly walked away, wiping his eyes gently.


	7. By The Horns

**A/N: I return with more. This story is simply one of many on the topic of this wedding in particular that I hope to write at some point, but I think this narrative has opened up the opportunity to create those other stories that are based around mainly the exact same wedding and the exact same ship. Hopefully this is received well, they are truly my favorite ship in the fandom.**

 **(As always) Written for the Pride Month Event at Hogwarts (Gay).**

 **Ship: Deamus**

 **Word Count: 1,169**

White flowers adorned the hall, crowding out the sunlight in some spots, even. The seats of the room were filling up, the noises of people talking and moving to find these seats grew every minute. All it had taken was some spell cooperation by the group that had helped put this together to make the ceiling a bright blue with a patch of clouds in some spots. In a way, it gave the feeling of being in the Great Hall back at Hogwarts.

Seamus had to take several breaths as he stood behind a corner to the entrance of the vast space. Months ago, they had decided he would be the one to walk to the altar rather than Dean. And because Dean's parents were strictly _Muggle_ when it came to weddings, Seamus had been forbidden from seeing his fiance (soon-to-be husband!) all day long.

This was certainly the most Muggle-styled thing he had ever done, but he absolutely loved it. He loved that he could have something like this in his life.

The Thomases had claimed that as long as vows were said with a few words from a preacher, it would be enough for them. They were not able to conform to the idea of a wedding that was completely Wizard-style: so the ceremony part was strictly Muggle.

"Breath, Seamus, it's going to be okay." Ginny Potter appeared out of nowhere, directly in front of him. She was holding several tissues in one hand, and his shoulder in the other.

"B-but what if I screw this up; Ginny, this could be bad -"

"You're going to be perfectly fine, Seamus. I need you to be aware that you have rehearsed this, that this is about to be set in stone, that it's going to be okay. And do you honestly think Dean will be truly upset if you mess up a little bit? I'll bet you anything he _will_ mess up something himself." Ginny scolded him.

He wanted to argue otherwise: Dean was perfect, Dean knew what he was doing, Dean was more aware of the scenario they had decided to throw themselves into; Dean was, well, _Dean._ Yet absolutely nothing seemed to convince Ginny that he was not going to be okay if something went wrong. She was totally steadfast in her encouragement.

"If there is one thing I learned from marrying that goofball over there," she nodded in Harry's direction, "It's that one can never predict what is going to happen at any point in a relationship, and that includes a wedding. So get your ass together, Seamus Finnigan, and get ready to make that man your husband."

She stalked away after handing him a tissue, making quite a face at her husband, and waving back at him. Seamus could only take another deep breath before nodding to himself. She was right, Dean was going to be okay with whatever happened. _He_ might not be, but clearly that didn't matter.

After several deep breaths in which he was certain he would pass out if he wasn't breathing in the best way possible, Seamus pulled his act together. More people were sitting down now. It would be impossible to back out of something like this right now, even if he did have a panic attack.

The music was slowly starting: the instruments picking up with what he assumed was a sonata of some sort. Seamus knew very little about music.

Their bridesmaids were lining up - was there a name for a group of bridesmaids? - and their dates across from them. Dean had been careful with the few couples they had chosen, in fact, he'd had complete say in who they were going to be. Luna and Neville, Hermione and Ron, Ginny and Harry, Lavender and Parvati, and one other couple who were friends of Dean's from the Muggle world, Sam and Frank, coming out to a suitable group of five pairs.

As the group started moving forward, Seamus gathered himself up again, preparing to take the walk that meant everything to the two of them. It was time.

%

"Do you, Dean Thomas, take Seamus Finnigan as your lawfully wedded husband?" It was fortunate that the only wizard priest in all of Britain had been willing to do this for them. The older man peered at them over his spectacles, awaiting an answer.

Dean gave a very visible swallow, and nodded, "I do."

"And do you, Seamus Finnigan, take Dean Thomas as your lawfully wedded husband?"

After all they'd been through, the question seemed a little rhetorical.

"I do."

"Then you may kiss the groom."

There was no hesitation in the way he attacked Dean's lips. It had been a painfully long time of staring at them, after all. All through those ridiculous vows that had taken them both a bit to get out because neither could hold back their tears, and all through the few words the priest had to say to please Dean's parents.

Finally, he could kiss the man who had been staring at him throughout the ceremony - and, as he did, he heard the clapping and cheering from the crowd that had so graciously sat through it with them. To Seamus, the tortures of the Muggle ceremony was something so new he had barely had time to complain about it beforehand.

And Seamus was relaxed, and Seamus was happy, and Seamus could actually breathe again; oh, how he could breathe again.

%

It was the slow dance that truly put him at an emotional peak. If there was one thing that truly hit Seamus, it was the way Dean was watching him with calm eyes and carrying him across the floor. His toes barely hit the ground with the much taller man held him with a gentle grip.

Every inch of the floor would be tread by the both of them by the end of the night, and that fact alone made him weirdly emotional.

"I hope you're not tearing up because you think I suck at dancing and are trying to hold in your laughter, love." Dean whispered gently into his ear, causing a shudder to go down the smaller man's back.

"No...that's not it…" he giggled.

"Good. I always thought you were the worst dancer out of us all. Even Ron is more articulate than you."

"Oh, shaddap." It was a little more sharper of a command than Seamus had intended, but he did it with purpose, and he was certain Dean understood it because the other made a sighing motion against him.

They continued moving about the floor and Seamus felt his emotions swell and melt with the sound of the violins behind them. Seamus had never had a fuller heart then he did right then, he had never experienced this much love before for the man holding him, for those that surrounded them. It was a calm before a brand new beginning. It was a chance to start over, and this time, they were grabbing this bull by the horns.


	8. Hope

**A/N: Ah, a little more pain and angst. Hopefully this is pretty well written, I had a few stops at certain points, but it flowed pretty well otherwise while writing and editing. This is basically the finale of this whole little series of Pride stories!**

 **Written for the Pride Month Event at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Queer Lit Game)**

 **Ship: Deamus**

 **Word Count: 2,870**

 **Prompts used: 1. (Word) Denial**

 **2\. (Setting) Countryside**

In the heat of July, all Dean should have been worrying about was when and where his next opportunity to get into cool water would be. Or, at least when he would find a cool drink next.

Life just wasn't that simple, and as a wizard, he'd had to come to this realization early on. It was simply accepted by the magical community that life was not going to be what Dean had expected it to be. Being calm or normal did not exist.

And as this was the case, the tall, dark-skinned boy was being forced into a situation of precarious circumstances.

It was not that Dean was not used to this thought. It had been there, in and out, all through the years and yet - he still was not fully comfortable with it. With his identity as a person. As a 16-going-on-17 year old, the very thought of discomfort with one's self seemed utterly _ridiculous_.

Despite all of his denial, Dean was never going to be able to ignore the fact that he was, in fact, bisexual. Every part of Dean's brain was convinced that this had to be the absolute reason some of the men he saw were as attractive and intriguing as some of the women he saw.

Sitting on the patio of the house of the one person in his entire life that he might ever be able to come clean with caused all of these thoughts to circle around and around vibrantly. What was creating more of a problem with Dean's own blatant refusal of a life he had never intended to lead was the fact that this was possibly _it_.

The searches for Muggleborns had barely started, surely to get incredibly worse, and already options were being figured out. Dean had been hurt by the idea that he was not to return to Hogwarts this year, but he knew it was for the best.

So his sexuality being in question right then seemed like a very minute problem at the time, yet it was also such a large one.

"Would ya like something to drink? It's boilin' out here, after all." Seamus stepped out of the door, holding what was obviously his own glass of water. Dean shook his head absentmindedly. The sight of his best friend was certainly taking his mind off of the fact that he was so hot.

"Shouldn't you have asked me that before you got yourself a glass?"

"Didn't think you'd want one, so I figured it was permissible." The pale Irishman sat down, shrugging. He hadn't changed out of his night clothes - Dean had slept on his floor, he would know - and he was looking really pale in the dark black of the shirt he wore. "Oi, stop making that face at me. I get it, I do not match with this fabric. Me mam's been all over me for the whole morning about it, ever since I got this shirt, 'fact."

Dean lifted his head, making sure to have his best "astonished" face on, "What gave you the idea that I was possibly considering your outfit even the slightest bit off?"

"Because," Seamus smirked, "That's the face me mam makes when she sees me in it."

There was then a period of comfortable silence in which the heat pressed down, smothering any small attempt at conversation. While Dean enjoyed simply sitting with Seamus at his house in the country, it felt a tad forced, a tad _exhausting_. His mind was on so many things at once, constantly calculating, constantly trying to figure out how things were supposed to work.

Fortunately, Seamus knew the reason he looked so tired when he came down in the mornings. Seamus knew that there was more going on in Dean's head than the man could stand. The pain was shared; the pain was mutual in more ways than Dean often imagined.

"It's nearing the end of July, mate. Have you had any thought of where - what you're going to do?" The sound of hurt in his best friend's voice was brutally evident.

Giving a sigh, he turned his head to look at the other, "Yes."

"A plan is a good thing to have."

Seamus had a vague idea of what Dean was planning, but he wasn't aware that Dean was going to do it all alone. The thought came back into Dean's head: that Seamus was also unaware of the hidden identity that Dean was fervently hiding.

The other was in fact quite open about his sexuality, had been, for years; and his blunt way of putting it - "Yes, I'm fucking gay, deal with it" - had also been a part of his constant way of coming out to people for at least a year now. Seamus had in fact gone through the exact same phase of questioning that Dean was dealing with. It's pain was tangible for them both.

"I agree," he nodded, smiling gently to replace his now-constant face of worry, "But I fail to see where you ever cared about a plan?"

"I haven't. Ever. But I thought ya might appreciate me saying such."

For the first time in a little while, Seamus' smile seemed genuine, even if it was more gentle than Dean was used to seeing it.

%

The weeks of August were passing fast. Dean had to be careful with how he talked around Seamus, as he constantly watched the other boy's face close in on itself if they got to discussing their future at all. Attacks on Muggleborns and Muggles were slowly becoming more consistent. The risk was growing: the risk was latching itself onto the Wizarding World. Dean could no longer remain where he was, he could not risk losing anyone close to him.

It did not help that he was starting to feel more like he needed to be free about himself. Self-expression in the world they were about to be thrown into was not going to be acceptable at all.

So he kept it inside, despite some of the looks he gained from Shay when the smaller man happened to see him gazing out a window, handling the torment from within.

It was on one such moment that on the second-to-last day Dean was planning on spending in the small cottage in the rolling hills of the Irish countryside Seamus finally approached him about the way he had started to distance himself throughout the weeks. The distancing method was painful, but it extracted Dean from Seamus' attention. It kept him out of the other's mind - or so he believed it would.

They were both seated on the couch, and Dean was busy thinking that maybe he should tell Seamus about his whole sexuality crisis when the other grabbed him by the head with both hands and forced them into a position of face-to-face staring.

"What is going on with you, Dean?" It was violent, it was blunt, it was - it was Seamus.

He sputtered, "W-what? Going on?"

"You've been distant. Is this all a form of self-detachment? 'Cause let me tell ya something, Dean Thomas, ya will not be detaching yourself from me memory no matter what you try to do. No matter if we're apart or together for the next year, I can promise that me mind will be on ya all hours of every day." Everything was poured out in one breath, and as soon as he was done, Dean watched Seamus' face sink as he realized what he had just said. The hands slowly fell from the sides of his face.

The tense minutes that followed were unlike anything Dean had ever experienced. Was that some sort of confession? Or did most best mates do the same thing, just, attacking each other and telling each other that they were going to be on the other's mind for an entire year no matter what happened?

But, _of_ _course_ that wasn't the sort of thing best mates did. No matter what the situation, that was not the sort of thing most did.

Dean knew it was very obviously a confession.

And bloody hell, it made him nervous.

If he didn't survive this next year, Seamus would be completely disappointed. Seamus would actually be heartbroken. He could see it in those blue eyes, the way they were so depressed now let him know that a heartbreak was unavoidable. Death was certainly not an option.

Yet if he did survive, what did it mean about them? Were they going to become a thing? If so, what sort of thing? Having feelings for Seamus...it didn't seem really out-of-place, in fact, it felt like...like it belonged, weirdly enough. Like that was supposed to be how life went, like it would work.

And it wasn't as if Dean wasn't capable of loving another man, he knew he was. But... _Seamus_. Seamus seemed like a whole other planet of exciting spontaneity, and love, and he seemed capable of things Dean never have any idea how to handle.

"I'm sorry. 'M gonna go try and help me mam in the kitchen for supper." Seamus shook his head, getting up. In any other case, Dean would have stopped him from leaving; this time, he was not fast enough. The sandy-haired man was already in the kitchen by the time words finally began to be able to function on Dean's lips again.

His hand fell from where it had been leaning up against the couch, and he gave a loud sigh. Things were supposed to be simpler than this.

%

The night was blatantly warm, yet all Dean could feel was cold as he stood from his makeshift bed, preparing for his leave. They hadn't talked at all for the past night and day; it was worse than the time they hadn't really talked in fifth year. Seamus seemed determined to ignore him as long as possible and was always feigning interest in something else to get away from the mere chance of a conversation.

Each little thing he could pack was being thrown in with complete disinterest as he thought over these events. So much could change when one little topic was brought up in a seemingly unwanted talk, and Dean was not okay with the fact that this situation was quite possibly the way he was going to be leaving.

But he _was_ leaving, because he had everything packed in a small backpack that he'd taken from home months ago, because he _was_ standing at the doorway, because he was breathing deeply.

Seamus was still sitting in the living room where he'd been all evening, his mother was long gone to her bed. Dean was thankful there would not be much of an audience to his leaving - he truly only wanted the other boy to be there. As each foot stepped in front of the other, Dean went over the words he wanted to say to the other when he left in his head. They had each been specifically rehearsed, picked out, gone over, and said near silently in the darkness of the room for the past day. It had been a cloudy day. The clouds had felt like an omen for Dean's leaving the premise.

"What ya doing up still?" Of course the first words out of Seamus' mouth to him after a whole day of silence were ones of question. "Seems like it's far past yer bed - Dean, what the hell are you doing with that backpack?"

He turned to look at the shorter man, a rush of emotion enveloping him suddenly. This was the person that was always there. And soon enough, Seamus wouldn't be there for comfort or discussion. Seamus would hopefully be in a better place than Dean was; at least, he'd been praying that it was better. Hogwarts had to be better than being in the middle of a forest with strangers chasing you, right?

Seamus looked betrayed, which didn't help. His face told only of misunderstanding and pain and understanding all at once. He knew what Dean was up to, and he obviously could only dislike it all the more as he stood there.

"Shay … you said yourself having a plan was a good idea." It was lame, it was completely lame, yet it was all he could manage with that face staring at him, all rehearsed words were forgotten. Seamus had come to a standing position.

"You can't just… Dean, you can't just leave me...can you? No, don't answer that, you can't leave me, Dean, you can't leave anyone. _What the_ _hell_ , _I thought you were lying when you said you were leaving for the year_!" Seamus moved closer to him, now looking more angry than confused.

"I'm sorry, Shay."

"Sorry doesn't cover this. This isn't a _sorry_ , Dean."

He took another deep breath, "I know. I know. But I can't do anything about it. I have to protect people. I have to protect my family, my mom, my sisters, my step-dad, I have to protect this place, I have to protect you - Shay, I have to protect _you._ "

Even as stuttering as the statement was, he knew it was true. After a day of sitting around having only contemplation as his friend, Dean had come to several conclusions: that he was definitely going to have to come out to Seamus, and that he was going to have to promise to return. Whatever was in the future for the two of them had to become a reality.

"You're worried about me when you're the one going on the run?!" Seamus gave out one of his infamous hysterical laughs, face betraying the sound he made. "If I didn't know ye so well, I'd say that was a load of shite!"

"Then why don't you?" Dean questioned, quiet. He was standing there feeling completely awkward, there was very little he could say to that.

Seamus visibly stiffened. "Because...yer tellin' the truth, Dean. And whatever may have come between us … I guess I need ya to know that you're still my best mate no matter what. I can't have ye running off on me and not having ye thinking bad of me."

"I'm not sure that's possible, Shay." He shook his head, looking at the floor for a moment. "I'm not sure I could think bad of you, no matter what."

The next moment of silence was replaced by Seamus moving forward, Dean following suite, to meet in the middle. They were staring at each other and were close enough that Dean could practically see every freckle on the Irishboy's face.

"I've meant to … say this for a while. A lot's been going on, so I haven't, but I think … you should know. Seamus, I'm...bi."

"Ye don't say?" The other's face brightened significantly. Dean could see a different, gentler light in his blue eyes. "Shoulda told me sooner, you fool."

"I've been hiding it for a while because I didn't feel like I was anything for a long time. Didn't know what feelings to believe."

"Do you … have a _thing_ for anyone?"

"I...I'm not sure, right now…" he looked into Seamus' face, analyzing how something so gentle could be so urgent sometimes, chaotic in others. "I might."

"Well, glad you could tell me before you left." Suddenly it sounded like Seamus might be holding back tears, which was awful to hear. Dean didn't want that.

"I tried. And I promise, Shay, whatever happens out there...I will come back. I will be back. I will get back to you, and we'll do whatever it takes to work whatever we need to out for as long as we need to." He was nodding as he spoke, and could feel tears in his eyes as well - but he would not cry tonight.

For a few moments, they stood there, both nodding. With hesitation, Seamus lifted his face higher, and Dean lowered significantly. They stood with their foreheads touching. It was all terribly new for Dean, the feelings that came with the sensation of being so close to someone. Something told him to push a little further since he would be gone, after all. There was nothing better to do but leave _some_ hope behind.

Gently, he leaned down farther and put his lips on the pale ones that faced him, closing his eyes slowly. Seamus was willing to do this. Seamus was willing to kiss him back.

It lasted maybe a minute, maybe half a minute - in many ways, it would seem like a second when Dean looked back on it for the months that followed - and they broke apart slowly. Seamus gave a soft nod in signal.

Releasing his hands from the Irishman's where they had become entwined, Dean backed away, beginning to walk to the door, staring at Seamus. Tears were slowly falling from the brilliant blue eyes that he had always found some solace in: he could not do anything more for now.

The last words Dean saw and heard come out of Seamus' mouth, that he would cherish for the next months that followed, echoed behind him as he walked out of the door and into the night air.

"Dean...stay safe."


End file.
